


Letters

by GemNika



Series: 30 Drabbles [1]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Aromantic & Asexual Relationship, Aromantic Lucy, Asexual Midnight, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Letters, M/M, Multi, Other, Prison, Squish Relationship, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 22:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13691166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemNika/pseuds/GemNika
Summary: Maybe she was a little bit lonely, but there was something about him that just made her want to squish him. So maybe writing to this man she didn't know would be worth it. She could only hope. Valentine's Day fic 2018.





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragonshost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonshost/gifts), [apriiil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apriiil/gifts).



> I'd like to wish everyone a (late) Happy Valentine's Day. I'm sure there are a lot of lovely, lovey-dovey stories out there for this holiday - what with it being all about romance and/or balls to the wall banging, depending on your preference and all - but I wanted to do something different this time around. Sorry for it being late, but I got the idea for this on the thirteenth, and it took some work to get it just right.
> 
> Anyway, I'd like to dedicate this one-shot to some very specific readers who may feel just a little left out when it comes to Valentine's Day. My aro and ace readers, this one is for you. This holiday is just as much yours as anyone else's. I hope you guys enjoy a totally platonic, super long, Modern AU Valentine's story!

 

"Bill, bill, bill," Lucy sighed, flipping through her mail and shrugging off her coat. She dropped her keys into the little bowl just insider her apartment and kicked the front door closed. Nothing but bills. Was it really so hard to get some normal mail from a real person, who wasn't trying to take her damn money? Why did no one send mail anymore? Sure, she got her daily dose of thirty to forty emails that she had to check every single morning, and then the random notification on Facebook here and there from her friends.

But she just wanted something more.

Well, the bills could wait until later, because there was something she'd been wanting to do for months now, and Lucy was tired of sitting on her hands and not doing it. The new year was about to begin. She wanted a change, damnit.

So that was just what she was going to do.

Lucy sat down at her desk and wiggled her mouse to get rid of the precious little goldfish screensaver that she'd had since the nineties. The webpage was still open. She usually only refreshed it once a week, just to see what updates had been posted. But then she saw one page that stuck out to her, and she hadn't been able to leave it.

For two months, she'd stared at the page, memorized every word on it. And, of course, she'd looked at the one available picture of a man with two-toned white and black hair pulled into a high ponytail. He was twenty-three, just like her. But good lord, was he pretty. What had drawn her in first was the turn of his lips. He wasn't smiling in the picture, but the corners still lifted just a little bit, giving him the perfect shape for lipstick. He didn't wear any, of course, but she could picture him pulling off a stunning plum shade with his pale complexion.

Based on his profile, he was agnostic and had no listed sexual preference. Considering he could have chosen from bisexual, gay, lesbian, or straight, she didn't really blame him for not making the choice. But then there was the little bio that he'd written.

_Hello to whoever's reading this. I don't really know what to say for something like this, but I've never been good with introductions in general. We can get the awkwardness out of the way now. I like art and reading. I hate poetry though; it makes my skin crawl. I have a close circle of friends that I've known since childhood, but no one else. I prefer to stick with the ones I know and trust. But it's been brought to my attention that talking with someone new might do me some good. I'm apparently brooding too much for my friend's sanity. So, if you'd like, drop me a line sometime._

Well, Lucy did want to drop him a line. He intrigued her. She wanted to know more about him, but it was daunting and so, so intimidating just  _thinking_ about writing even one word to him.

But damnit, she was so tired of not having anyone to talk to. She was more than tired of dreading opening her mailbox down in the lobby. There was only so much garbage she could order online before she ventured into hoarder territory.

So that day, Lucy decided that she was going to just suck it up and write to him. She could introduce herself, ask him questions. She could get to know him. And maybe they could be great friends. Based on his profile, she was actually just a little hopeful that he wasn't interested in anything more than friendship. Because while she thought he was just too pretty for words, she didn't want him getting the wrong idea. She didn't want to date him.

Lucy just wanted a friend. She had plenty, so it wasn't that she was lacking really. But her friendships all felt a little superficial. She wanted to really get to know someone, and for them to know her. She wanted the kind of friend who would stick by her side for good, who she could turn to when it was just the worst day ever.

It was with that thought in mind that she pulled out her stationery and one of her nice pens, and started to write. She didn't let herself overthink what she was writing, and just let the words flow for a change. Instead of holding herself back, Lucy let it all out.

And by the time she was finished, it was a barely half a page. That was probably enough for a letter. Especially the first letter. She couldn't allow herself to consider the very real possibility that he might think she was insane for rambling on so long. Well, it seemed like she'd been rambling. Maybe half a page wasn't rambling. Maybe it wasn't enough.

Finally, she grabbed a light pink envelope and placed a stamp in the corner, adding a label with her return address to the top left corner and another one to the actual letter according to the site's guidelines. She copied the address exactly as it was written on the webpage, nibbling her lip the whole while.

 _Macbeth Leiriu #100975_  
Aven State Prison (A154-66-2)  
PO Box 603  
Aven, WI 53005 USA

She folded the letter and sealed it inside, then decided that she couldn't just leave it on her desk. It would drive her insane. Lucy stood from her desk and grabbed the letter, then marched right out her front door and down to the first floor of her apartment building, to the lobby. She didn't hesitate to shove it into the outgoing mail slot. It wasn't until the paper was finally out of her hands that she started to panic. But it was too late. That letter was going to Macbeth, and now all she could do was wait.

* * *

_December 27th, 2014_

_Dear Macbeth,_

_I saw your profile on Write-A-Prisoner and decided, after a lot of deliberation, to write to you. My name is Lucy, and I'm twenty-three, and… this is starting to feel like a really awkward Plenty of Fish ad or something. I don't really know what to say in this, since I've never written to an inmate before. Well, I've never written a letter to someone I don't know before. But, your profile caught my eye, and I'd really like to see if we can be friends. So write me back whenever you'd like, alright? Here's my address, in case you don't get the envelope this comes in. And I made sure to send an envelope along with this, already stamped, so you don't need to worry about having to get any of that. I look forward to hearing from you._

_-Sincerely, Lucy_

His crimson eyes were wide as he read the fine script on the page a second time, leaning back on his bunk with Erik already asleep on the bunk above him. They were some of the few people in this cell block with book lights, but that was because Erik was constantly reading. It just meant that Macbeth had been able to tuck the mail he hadn't expected ever getting into his pocket for later.

But now that he was looking at it, reading it for a third time, he wasn't sure if he wanted to respond to this. It had mostly been a dare from Erik in the first place, putting his information on that stupid site through some program offered for the inmates. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to write to some penpal. So, he decided to just leave it alone. Maybe he could pretend he hadn't gotten it. Or he could just sleep on it. That was probably for the best, anyway.

* * *

"Bill, bill, trash, more trash. Another bill," she sighed. A slightly crinkled envelope drew her attention, smaller than the standard size for envelopes, and light pink. "Ooh, not a bill!" Lucy tossed the rest of her mail onto the table as she read the return address written at the top. This was her envelope that she'd sent in Macbeth's letter, so he could write back to her. It had been over a month since she'd mailed it out to him, but she'd just assumed that there was a screening process for mail. She tore open the envelope while sitting on her plush reading chair in the corner of her living room, right beneath the window, and started to read.

_February 3rd, 2015_

_Lucy,_

_Thanks for writing to me. I hadn't expected anyone to go through with this, to be perfectly honest. I'm kind of at a loss on what to talk about here, too. I've never done this before either. You already read on my profile that I like art and reading. I'm not one for conventional art, though. It's pretty unusual, I think. That sounds weird. Please tell me you're not into poetry. Well, I guess you could be, but I really don't like it. Like I said, it makes my skin crawl. This sounds like a strange request right off the bat, but my cellmate Erik says people normally send a picture with the first letter, so I know who I'm writing to. Make sure you put my name and Dept. of Corrections number on the back of it though, in case it gets separated from the letter at some point when they open my mail. I guess I'll end it here. Oh, double check the prison's guidelines for what you are and aren't allowed to send. They're really strict about that stuff._

_-Macbeth_

She found herself smiling down at the letter written on paper from a yellow legal pad. It seemed they were both in the same boat, but if she was supposed to send him a picture, then she could do that. Well, she needed to find a picture that she actually wanted to send to him. Something that showed her, of course, but was also appropriate to send to an inmate. Nothing too sexual, and nothing violent - not that she made a habit of taking pictures with kittens held at gunpoint or anything.

Lucy went over to her desk and wiggled the mouse, then started browsing through the pictures saved on her external hard drive. It needed to be one that only had her in it. She wasn't going to send pictures of her friends to someone she didn't know.

She paused at the icon labeled  _Rufus Shoot_. It was from early this past fall. He still had a semester left at the university, and he needed a model for his mini photo shoot. She couldn't remember what angle he'd been going for, but it had something to do with fall and dying leaves, and the color orange. Those were probably the most recent pictures of her anyway, and they were professional quality, so that was where she decided to look first.

It didn't take long to choose one. About half had her as the main focus, and some of them were very… artistic. Rufus had taken full advantage of her previous years in acrobatic dance classes by getting her bent into the strangest of shapes. But there was one that caught her eye, and she couldn't help but laugh while looking at it. This was the one. It had to be. It was her, in every imaginable way, and if Macbeth was going to get to know her, then this would be the best place to start.

She needed to double check the prison's guidelines on sending pictures to inmates - maybe she wasn't allowed to send photo paper? - but that could wait a few more minutes. All of a sudden, she had the urge to call up Rufus and see if he was busy now that he'd graduated. Maybe they could get some coffee and catch up.

* * *

_February 6th, 2015_

_Macbeth,_

_You have no idea how glad I am that they allow you guys to get real photos. My printer sucks, and it wouldn't have done this picture justice. But, you wanted to know who you're writing to, and this is me. My friend was taking a photography class and needed someone to model for his project, so he roped me into it by bribing me with coffee and chocolate cake. As you can see, this is definitely one of the "blooper" shots from the ordeal. I promise you, I was_ _not_ _supposed to fall out of the tree. I think this looks much more majestic than it really was, because I landed flat on my ass and nearly got a rock lodged in there. I had a bruise the size of Kansas on my butt for weeks._

_You said you like unconventional art. What kind of art is that? It's all pretty unconventional to me. I was an English major in college, so I look at most art like, "Ooh, pretty pictures." I focused on Creative Writing. And no, not poetry. I just don't get it, no matter what my essays about poetry might make you believe to the contrary. The bullshit was strong with me when it came to writing essays. So, no worries about me gushing over poetry. I focused on fantasy writing, especially novels._

_If you draw or something like that, I'd love to see it. Well, if you wanted to send me a drawing. Tell me something about yourself. Like… What's your favorite color and season? And why?_

_-Lucy_

Erik peeked down from his bunk when he heard paper shifting over itself, and he let out a low whistle at the picture in Macbeth's hand. "That's who's writing to you?" he asked. "Man, she's sexy as fuck."

Macbeth shrugged while taking in Lucy's fall from a tree branch. The flowing sky blue peasant dress with three-quarter length sleeves - clothing that was deemed "non-explicit" by the prison's guidelines because it wasn't baring her shoulders, and nearly reached down to her knees - clung to her legs and billowed in the air above her. Her arms had most likely been pinwheeling while she fell, based on how they were stretched out on either side of her. But even though he was sure that she'd been terrified from the fall, she was still smiling with her mouth wide open on what he could imagine was something between a laugh and a scream. Her peaches and cream complexion was complemented by her shining, golden hair that looked as though it reached down to her waist.

"Come on, Midnight, you can't tell me that's not a fine piece of ass," Erik laughed.

"She's pretty," he said. And he did mean it. Just because he didn't find her attractive didn't mean that he couldn't see she was pretty. Based on how his best friend since childhood had startled mumbling up on his bunk, she was  _very_ pretty.

"Mm, the tits alone," Erik hummed.

"She says it was a photoshoot for some friend of hers from college. She sent me one of the duds."

"She makes falling look delicious."

Macbeth rolled his eyes and tucked the photo back into the envelope. "Erik, if you're so hard up for some action, why don't you go take a shower? I'm sure you can find some wolves in the fresh meat that came in this morning." He glanced up when he heard the Erik's rough blanket shifting over his mattress.

"You're absolutely right," Erik chuckled. He hopped down from his bunk, pausing in the open door to their cell. They still had a few hours before their tier would be out in the yard. "Want me to bring you back anything?"

"Smokes," Macbeth said while grabbing his legal pad and pen. "I traded my last one for some stamps."

Erik snorted and walked out. "You should ask that sexy girl of yours to send you some stamps then," he called back.

"Shut up, Cobra."

* * *

_June 10th, 2015_

_Lucy,_

_Sorry it took me a couple weeks to get back to you. We had a sweep of my tier because some jackass decided to flaunt his contraband where the CO's could see. I thought they were going to take the picture you sent for a minute. The people here are disgusting. But you asked about my family. I only knew my dad growing up. My mom was never in the picture. We lived in a trailer park. I didn't realize until I was older what he did for a living, but he wasn't exactly the most honest guy around. He was really good at committing fraud. I don't really like talking about him. He died before I got locked up, and I say good riddance._

_I don't have any family left now. It was just me and him. But I do have some really close friends. Erik, he's in the same cell as me, grew up with me in the trailer park. Same with Sorano, Sawyer, and Richard. We were able to get put in the same cell because he sweet-talked the warden. I can't remember what he'd said, but it was something along the lines of me being an easy target in prison, and that he wanted to keep me safe. And then something about how it was all his fault I was locked up anyway. That's only partly true, but at least I know he's got my back. And no one messes with him. Tell me about your family. Any brothers or sisters? Or your parents? What are they like?_

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_July 15th, 2015_

_Macbeth,_

_You wouldn't believe the week I've had. Someone broke into my car when I was visiting Natsu - he's the one I told you about before who comes to town every so often to eat me out of house and home. He was doing pyrotechnic work on some indie film and asked if I wanted to drive out to Vegas to visit. Well, while I was down there, my car got broken into and my stereo was stolen. Nothing else. Just the stereo. And it wasn't even a good one, just the standard one that came with the car. I'm not sure how much you know about cars, but it's a 2002 Neon. So, not really worth a whole lot. The drive back up here to Wisconsin was nice though. Without being able to listen to the radio - I ordered one online while I was still in Vegas, and I'm having it installed this weekend - I was able to just roll down the windows and listen to the wind. And smell the wind. It's just a little different in every state. Nebraska was so earthy, so natural. Just flat plains going on for miles and miles in every direction. If I hadn't been on a time crunch, I probably would have stopped just to soak it all in, y'know? And god, Nevada is hot! It's not muggy like when I visited Georgia last year for my friend Bickslow's wedding. I was pouring sweat through the whole ceremony. It was this dry heat. I wanna go back sometime to try and figure out the best way to describe that kind of heat._

_But you wanted to know more about my dad. I know I talked a lot about my mom before. My dad and I don't really get along very well. He wants me to take over his family business, but I don't want to. We came to an agreement though. He paid for me to go to college and get a degree that I really want, but I have to actually do something with it. He was so angry when I told him I was going to be a writer. But I think he's trying to be understanding over me making my own choices, because it's what my mom would have wanted. It's part of the reason I'm able to travel as much as I do. He wants me to be able to explore, and keep in touch with my friends._

_You were telling me more about you and Erik though. How's everything going in there? Does he really just scour the prison looking for guys to get cozy with? That sounds strange when I write it that way._

_-Lucy_

* * *

_October 17th, 2015_

_Lucy,_

_My parole hearing is coming up soon. I'm not too optimistic about it. They usually happen every three years or so. I can't believe I've already been locked up for six years. The day after my eighteenth birthday, I got arrested. Sometimes, I wish I hadn't been so stupid. But the board is going to take one look at me, then look at my rap sheet, and they're going to send me right back to my cell. I'm gonna be stuck in here, serving out all fifteen years of this sentence._

_I won't get out until I'm thirty-three. And by then, what's going to be left for me? A whole lot of nothing. I'm starting to see why Brooks in Shawshank Redemption wanted to go back to prison when he got out. There's nothing out there for people like me. I'm not much of a bigshot in here either, but it's what I know. Out there it's just… insane._

_This probably doesn't make much sense to you. It took a lot out of me just to write anything today. Erik's got a few books, so maybe I'll snag one of those while he's down having dinner and a show. One of the gangs in here has been causing trouble with another gang, so they're probably gonna start a fight. Erik likes watching the others get pepper sprayed by the CO's when they start fighting. He just sits there and keeps eating his food like nothing's going on._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_October 31st, 2015_

_Macbeth,_

_Happy Halloween! I hope this reaches you before your parole hearing. Good luck with it! I want to tell you to keep your chin up, and try to believe that things will work out. But I know you'd rather be realistic about things. All I can say is that I'm happy you opened up to me in your last letter. I can't even begin to imagine how difficult it must be, going through this, but just remember that you can always vent to me. Even if your letters are ten pages full of all-caps text yelling, that's fine. I'd much rather you use this as an outlet to get things off your chest, rather than letting it fester._

_There's so much to do once your out of prison, though. Have you looked into school programs that you can complete while you're still in? Or maybe you can start planning for an adventure all your own after your parole is finished. Just take a map and choose every place you want to visit, and make it into a bucket list. Tell yourself, "One day, I'll visit Niagara Falls," or "One day, I'll spit in the Grand Canyon." Anything you want. It'll give you something to look forward to, at least._

_I think I'm going to spend tonight curled up on the couch, watching Shawshank and handing out candy to the kids coming by. I've been in the mood for some solid Morgan Freeman lately, and it's too much of a hassle to get dressed up for Halloween. If I had some friends in town right now, I'd probably dress up, but everyone's busy. I can have a lazy night for both of us, okay? Pretend you're sitting with me, watching the movie. It'll be fun._

_-Lucy_

Macbeth's hands shook while he held the page, his pale pink lips pulled into a grimace. Life was so damn easy for her, wasn't it. She'd wished him luck on a hearing he'd already been to, one that he knew was going nowhere as soon as he saw the board and their disdainful gazes trained on him. It had to have been the fastest denial they'd ever issued. Not even an hour after he was escorted from the room, he got word that he was stuck in this stupid state prison for another three years, at minimum.

"What'd Tiggle Bitties say this time?" Erik asked from where he laid on his bunk over Macbeth's head, reading a book that he'd gotten off the library cart earlier that week.

"She said good luck on my parole shit."

"Ouch."

"And she's trying to get me to plan for a future that won't happen." Was he bitter? Of course he was. He'd gotten her letter a week after she'd written it. Her words might have been encouraging if they'd come just two days sooner. But, no. It had been too late.

"Midnight, don't talk like that," Erik sighed. "You know she was just trying to cheer you up. I bet you got all broody and shit in that letter you sent her."

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters, man. You don't let a hot piece of ass like that, who's actually willing to write to you every fucking  _week_ , just go because you're pissed over that shitty board's decision."

The shuffle of a boot outside their cell drew their attention to the thin, spindling man with a too-wide smile peeking through the bars. "What the fuck do you want, Kurohebi?" Macbeth spat.

"I heard you got denied," he said. "What's wrong, no conjugal visits from your girlfriend?"

Erik jumped down from his bunk and stomped over to the bars. His hand shot out and wrapped around the black shirt beneath Kurohebi's standard issue grey jumpsuit, then he pulled hard enough to bash the snaky fucker's face into the metal. "You need to roll up your fucking window, you little shit. Who said you could listen to what we're talking about?"

"Hot water!" came a shout from further down the block, prompting Erik to push Kurohebi away and walk back toward the bunk. He plopped down next to Macbeth just as a guard came walking by.

"Everything alright here?" the guard asked.

"Fine," Erik said, glaring at the other prisoner with everything his single eye could offer. "Just reminding someone not to listen in."

"Something worth talking about?"

Macbeth sighed and ran a hand through his hair, mussing his ponytail and not really caring all that much about it. "Parole got denied again."

As the guard walked off, he grabbed his legal pad and pen, then leaned back against the wall while trying to decide what to write back to Lucy.

"Don't be a jackass," Erik said. But that was all he said on the matter before standing and hopping back up onto his own bunk.

* * *

_November 3rd, 2015_

_Lucy,_

_I get that you're trying to help, but do me a favor and don't. Don't try to help me. I don't need someone to vent to. I've got Erik for that, and he understands a whole lot better what I'm dealing with because he's living it every single day with me. It was stupid of me to "open up" because you just don't get it._

_You know what else you don't get? There's nothing for me outside of prison. Of the five people in my group, three of us are in prison. Sorano is in New York right now for her job, and Richard is out in Iceland doing god only knows what. But me and Sawyer and Erik are in here. And when I get out, all anyone is ever going to see is some jackass who got arrested at eighteen and spent fifteen years in prison, and wasn't able to get out early even with good behavior. I have no special skills, Lucy. I have nothing to offer any employer. And how long do you think I'll be stuck on parole? Do you really think there's any chance of me planning any place I can go? I'll be stuck in Wisconsin for the rest of my fucking life!_

_There's no Niagara Falls or Grand Canyon. No trips to Cancun. No trips to Vegas or anywhere._

_And you know what? Halloween is fucking stupid, and I'm glad you're so carefree that you can just choose to sit at home and watch a movie about prison. Yeah, that sounds like a blast. I'd love to watch a movie about the place I'm currently stuck in._

_-Macbeth_

Lucy bit her lips and crumpled the letter, then threw it across her living room. If he wanted to act like that, then fine. She wasn't going to write to him again. She tried to be understanding, but what he'd said just stung.

Of course she didn't know exactly what he was going through, but she was willing to listen. They'd been writing to one another for almost a year, and she'd started feeling like they were really getting to know each other. She'd been so sure that he was going to be her friend. And things had been going so well up until now.

With a heavy sigh, she looked across the room, to the little ball of wadded up yellow paper. Maybe she just needed to take some time. That would be for the best. She'd told him that he could vent to her, but there was a difference between ranting about what was bothering him and telling her to just go and fuck herself.

So, she just let the letter sit on the floor and turned away from it to look out the window of her apartment, at the bustling street five stories below.

* * *

They didn't call his name down at mail call again. Erik had told him to not be a jackass, but he'd gone and done it anyway. It wasn't her fault that his parole had been denied. When he read the letter again, she was trying to be nice. She was trying to be understanding. She was being a good fucking friend, and he was being a bitch.

All because he'd gotten some bad news.

Still, he went down to mail call every day at noon to see if there was a letter. He'd gotten so used to her letters coming a week after he sent his to her. Sometimes they were a couple days later, but he'd never had to wait three weeks for a letter from her before. She'd never made him wait like this.

God, he was fucking stupid.

* * *

_December 19th, 2015_

_Lucy,_

_I'm so, so, so sorry for being a jackass to you. I shouldn't have lashed out at you over just trying to be nice to me. And it wasn't your fault at all. The day I got your letter, I'd already been sulking over my parole getting denied. Your letter came two days after the hearing. If it had been earlier, maybe I would've looked forward to that hearing. I kind of did for a bit, because talking with you, writing with you… It's given me hope._

_You give me hope, Lucy. You make it seem like the world is just right outside my window. Like there aren't bars covering it and keeping me locked away. Your stories of all the places you go and the people you see, I always feel like I'm right there with you. And it made me start to think I could have something like that too, if I could just get out of here. I'm only twenty-four right now. If I got out now, if my parole hadn't been denied, then I could probably travel by the time I'm thirty. But they took that away from me. One stupid mistake when I was barely an adult, and my life was over._

_But you made it easier to deal with. I shouldn't have written that letter to you. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I do want to get out of here, so badly it hurts. And I can't talk about that with the people here. Erik gets it, so I don't need to say it to him. I can talk to you about anything, and it doesn't make me look weak to the other inmates. Because they don't know what we talk about. I hope you'll give me another chance, and that you'll write to me again. Every time they call my name to let me know I've got mail from you, it brightens up my day. Because it lets me know that there's someone out there, living in the world, who still thinks about me enough to sit down and write me a letter. I don't know if it's that important to you, but it is to me. It's all I've got._

_Please write to me again, Lucy. I'm so sorry._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_December 23rd, 2015_

_Macbeth,_

_I forgive you. I sent this out as quickly as possible, and I paid extra to make sure it gets to you in time. All I wanted was an apology from you. We don't have to waste our paper talking about it anymore. Just know that I forgive you. Also, it's super easy to get me to do it. I'm kind of a pushover when I can tell someone's sincere._

_Your last letter had me in tears. Happy ones and sad ones. There was a lot of ugly crying over here. I want you to have everything you hope for. And I want you to know that I believe you can have it all. Everything you could ever dream of, you can do it. And I'll be there every step of the way. You just tell me what I can do to help, within reason. If you just want to talk about it, then that's fine._

_And I'll tell you all the stories you want to hear, as long as you promise to tell me more about yourself. And your friends. I want to know everything. What was it like growing up with people so close to you? You said they all lived in the same trailer park as you, right? God, that sounds amazing, having friends that you could just walk down the road and they're right there._

_Oh, and before I forget. The reason I wanted to make sure this got to you in time. Merry Christmas, Macbeth. Don't forget, I'm thinking of you on Christmas. I don't know what your favorite cookie is (how has this literally never come up before?!), so I hope me stuffing my face with ten different kinds of cookies that I baked all by myself will be enough. They won't let me send you cookies. I called and double-checked. But, hey, when you get out, I'd be happy to send you some Christmas cookies. Assuming I don't burn down my kitchen trying to just make them in the first place. I'm surprised I survived this year._

_I can't wait to hear from you, Macbeth. I missed your letters too._

_-Lucy_

* * *

_January 9th, 2016_

_Lucy,_

_I haven't seen you in almost a year now. Do you think you could send me a newer picture? I'd send you one of myself, but I don't really have a way to get one taken in here. They update mugshots every thirteen to fifteen years, so by the time I'd get an updated one, my sentence would be up._

_I asked for a list from the guards of the things you're allowed to send. I don't want you to think you_ _have_ _to send me anything, but at least you'll know what is and isn't allowed._

_You wanted to know about my childhood. I have a lot of stories from back then. You talk about your own childhood like you didn't have other kids to play with. I know you're an only child, but didn't you have kids you went to school with that were friends?_

_Also, how are those cookies coming along? Did you make a dent in all those batches yet, or are you planning on freezing them so I can have some when I'm old and grey and finally free?_

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_February 16th, 2016_

_Macbeth,_

_Sorry I didn't answer your big question from a few letters ago. Things have been hectic, so I haven't had time to really sit and think about what you'd asked. You know I'm an only child, but I guess I didn't tell you I was homeschooled. My dad paid for some stupidly expensive tutors, and after my mom died, I was just kind of left to do my schoolwork. I never got to go to a normal school until college, and there weren't any kids even close to my age in the neighborhood. When I wasn't working on school stuff, I was stuck with a nanny until I was twelve. So… super sheltered and lonely. It's kind of depressing, but that's why I like hearing about you and your friends growing up so much._

_So, there's something important that I wanted to talk to you about. It's about why I'd started writing to you in the first place. I didn't want to put it in this letter though. I figured if I put it in a separate letter, then you could read it and then get rid of it if you wanted to. Anyway, read my second letter._

_-Lucy_

Macbeth lifted a perfectly sculpted brow and frowned at the letter. This one was much shorter than most of her other letters. They'd been writing to one another for a little over a year, and normally her letters were pages long while she told him all about the things she did. And more about herself. And responded to the things he wrote about. He loved that her letters were so long. And he tried to think of things to talk about to fill in the space when he wrote back to her. There wasn't much really going on for him, specifically, but he often told her about the things going on in the prison. Like who Erik was sleeping with for the time being, what he thought of the other people around him. Complaining about the guards or the food. He was still getting through his own stories from when he'd been a kid. She seemed to love reading about those.

Still, there was a second letter sitting on the bunk next to him from her. And she'd said it was important. It wasn't as though he wouldn't read it, even if it hadn't been important. Hell, there had been one whole letter the year before where she told him all about some new show she'd been watching that was only on Netflix. He'd already told her that they did have television, and sometimes he was able to watch a show here and there, but it was too hard to catch new episodes of any show he might enjoy. Sometimes he missed them, and then the following week he'd be lost when it came time for the next episode.

She had started making a list of shows he mentioned though. Lucy told him that, when the time came and he was out of prison, she could find them for him online and show him how to watch them. She'd mentioned something about making a Plex server, or having a friend of hers do it for her, but he hadn't understood a lot of what she'd been talking about. Technology had changed in the past seven years.

With a shake of his head, he unfolded the second letter and began to read.

_You might not know what this is, and that's okay, but I've had a serious squish on you since I saw your profile on Write-A-Prisoner. It was your lips that caught my attention. You have really beautiful lips. And then your bio. I never really knew what it was about your bio that drew me in. It's similar to a lot of others on that site, but… Well, maybe it was because you mentioned Erik in it - saying that you were brooding too much for his sanity - and it made me laugh. Like, genuine laughter. It was cute._

_And after getting to know you, it's only gotten worse. And better. If that makes sense. I don't talk about this with anyone. A lot of people don't really get it, the way I feel about other people. I've never told a squish this before. I just wanted you to know, because we've been talking for a while, and I feel like it'd be alright if I finally came clean about it._

_And, if you don't know what a squish is, then think of it like a crush but without me wanting to date you. Just get to know you, and be friends with you. I think about you a lot, Macbeth. And I think about all the things we could do together when you're out of prison. I'd love to take you on a trip somewhere. You know I travel a lot, and I'd be more than happy to take you with me - once you're allowed to legally leave the state, that is. But it's not a romantic thing. I want to do things with you as your friend. Oh, and don't think that it's because you're in prison. I just don't have crushes on people, men or women or otherwise. I don't like dating people. But the biggest reason I wrote to you to begin with, aside from the squish thing, is because I want to be your friend. And I hope that we can be friends for a really long time._

_This probably sounds weird. I'll shut up now and go bury my face in the couch for a few hours._

* * *

_March 4th, 2016_

_Lucy,_

_I'm honored to be your squish._

_I've never heard of it before, but I can tell that it's something that's important to you. Is it weird that this makes so much more sense to me than what Erik keeps rambling about with his random bitches in here? I've never been interested in any of that. I didn't want to tell you though. This whole time, I've been worried that you would stop writing if you found out I don't want that with you. Or with anyone. I never have._

_A man wrote to me one time, wanting to have something else, and I had to explain that I wasn't interested in anyone. I don't know if you're my squish though. I'm not sure if I've ever felt like that about another person before. What you said you were looking for kind of sounds like a "Best Friends Forever" kind of thing. Is that right?_

_Oh, I have a pretty funny story for you about Erik. He reminded me of it earlier today. When we were kids, he lived down the street from me in a really nice double-wide with his grandma. We were about eight at the time, and he snuck over to my house with a jar of cookies. His grandma was a crotchety old lady, but she could_ _bake_ _. Well, he took the whole thing and we started eating them, and we'd agreed to only eat a couple so she wouldn't notice. Half an hour later, all the cookies were gone and she showed up at my trailer and smacked both of us over the head with her broom. We ran out and she chased us down the street, yelling about us eating the cookies, and hoping we got fat. It was pretty hilarious. And what made it even better was that we ran so much that we got sick, and she dragged us back to Erik's and gave us tea and crackers until we felt better. She was mean as hell at times, but she took really good care of all of us. Every time my dad disappeared for a few days, she said I could stay the night for as long as I wanted._

_I really miss her. I know Erik misses her too, but he refuses to write to her. He always says that she's too ashamed of him to answer. Or to even accept a letter from him. If I knew where she lived now, I would write to her myself, just to see if he's full of it. But she might have moved._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

He stretched out on the bunk with her letter lying on his chest. In his hand was a picture he hadn't been expecting in the slightest. Both times, he'd asked her for a new picture, but this time she'd just sent one on her own. And she looked beautiful in it with her pale pink sundress and a lace shawl covering her shoulders. She was looking right at the camera with her long hair braided and draped over one shoulder while she smiled and smelled a flower that he didn't know the name of. Maybe she'd sent it so he could feel like he was out in the summer sun with her, smelling that same flower. Based on the quality of the picture, he assumed that her friend Rufus had asked her to model for more pictures. He was starting his own business, from what she'd written in a letter the month before, so maybe this was going to be one of the shots in Rufus' portfolio.

Macbeth set the picture down on his chest and opened the letter.

_June 7th, 2017_

_Macbeth,_

_I went to the fair they had recently, and met up with Natsu. He was in town again. I swear, that boy can eat his weight in junk food. I may have also eaten my weight in funnel cakes. We stumbled upon Rufus and he took us out into the woods, and it was just beautiful out there. I had him snap a few pictures so I could send one to you. I know, I sent you one a few months ago when you asked, but I thought it might be a nice surprise. Maybe I should've sent the one Natsu took on my phone of me stuffing my face with deep fried Snickers. It wasn't pretty. Actually, next time I have a really embarrassing photo like that, I'll send it to you. Maybe with no context, just to mess with you. Like the time I went flying down a flight of stairs while trying to catch an ornament that my neighbor's daughter made at school. Nearly broke my neck, but I caught the ornament and she was able to give it to her grandfather on Christmas._

_But anyway, we were talking about the squish thing. I had an idea of how you could figure it out. Maybe._

_Look at this picture and try to imagine doing something with me. Imagine we're sitting next to each other in a white room, and we can do anything we want. Anything at all. This room is magical, and can change into anything you want it to. Wanna be in the woods? It'll take us there. On top of a skyscraper? We'll be there. (I'm afraid of heights though - not that you could tell with how often I'm falling off of high things, I guess - so I'll ask that, if we're on a skyscraper, you provide me with a parachute.)_

_What do you imagine we're doing? If it's talking, spending time together, watching a movie, even hugging or holding hands like you would with a friend - if you do that sort of thing - then it's a squish. If it's just friendship, but like… more than friendship… it's a squish._

_But if it's more intimate - maybe not sexual, per se, but like… going all Lady and the Tramp and eating off the same plate, or having a picnic at midnight on the beach, then it's a crush. If it's got the romance stuff in there, that's a crush, not a squish._

_And if it's neither of those things, that's fine too. It took me a long time to figure out what to call all the different things for it. There's this website that I read that helped me figure it out. I know you can't get online, so I'll print out the pages for you and send them in my next letter, if you're interested._

_For me, I don't have crushes. I never have. I have squishes. I don't like romantic things for myself. I like romantic movies though. Go figure. And sometimes, I see something that's romantic as just something happening between friends. So, if you took me out to a nice dinner with candles all over the place and there were violins in the background, I'd still just see it as me and my friend having dinner with some really nice ambience and music._

_I hope that helps._

_-Lucy_

* * *

_June 15th, 2017_

_Lucy,_

_I think… Maybe it's a squish with you? I'd like to read that website stuff you talked about before. But I'd really love to sit and talk with you. Just spending time with you... That sounds like the best day ever. I'm not really one for touching though, so you'd have to give me some time to get used to you before we could hold hands._

_I do like romantic things though. Going out to dinner, seeing a movie, things like that. I only ever went on a few dates before I got locked up, but I enjoyed them._

_I've only ever told this to Erik, when we came to prison, but I don't date people because they're usually looking for sex to go along with it. It just doesn't sound appealing. I've never done it, but I tried watching porn when I was younger. Even the mild stuff wasn't appealing. I can't picture myself doing that with anyone. It's not that it grosses me out, I'd just rather spend my time with someone that I really care about without anything else attached to it. When I went on dates before, things always got awkward when the woman I was with wanted something more. It kind of made me give up on that whole thing._

_I think this is the first time I've really felt comfortable talking about this. With Erik, I knew he just didn't get it. He's kind of a slut in here. But he's also gay, so it works out for him. And he's able to take care of himself, so people end up coming to him for protection. He trades it for sex or whatever he wants._

_But with you, I know you get it. Maybe not the sex part, but at least the part where there's something that I'm just not interested in when everyone else seems to be. Is there a word for this? All I know is that I like women, I just don't want to have sex with them._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_June 25th, 2017_

_Macbeth,_

_I'm smiling so much right now. My squish might be squishing back. And not touching is okay. I'm a hugger though. Especially when I'm greeting people. But knowing that you're not like that is good. I wouldn't want to push any boundaries, y'know? I had to put all the stuff I printed out in another envelope, but you should be getting them at the same time. The prison has a forty page limit per piece of mail, so I figured it was better to have as much information as possible in one, and then my letter in another._

_What you were telling me about is in the huge packet though. I'd rather you read through it and figure that out for yourself, because I don't want to just label you on my own. You should be the one to decide where your own situation fits in._

_Do you like nature? There's this great park I've been meaning to go to on the border with Minnesota, and it's supposed to have some of the best trails in all of Wisconsin. We could go there and walk around and just talk for hours. Maybe we'd even be able to find some deer or something. I've always wanted to see a stag out in the wild. I know it'd never happen, but wouldn't it be cool to actually touch their antlers? Without getting poked in the eye, preferably._

_-Lucy_

* * *

_July 8th, 2017_

_Lucy,_

_I wasn't all that into nature before getting locked up, but I have a feeling I just might enjoy it more whenever I get out. Is it strange that I want to jump in a huge pile of fall leaves? I think you'd probably be a great partner for leaf jumping._

_I kind of like that you're a hugger. I'm not repulsed by being touched though, it just makes me anxious if I'm not expecting it. I think… maybe because I know you like hugging, it wouldn't be too bad? Or maybe I'd have to initiate it. Hands are okay though. I'm a thumb-wrestling champion. It's the one physical thing I'm able to beat Erik in that isn't based on luck like Rock Paper Scissors. We have far too much time on our hands in here._

_Did I tell you that they moved me down to the laundry room during the day? I don't know who I angered in a past life, but having to smell old ball sweat from over two hundred of these nacho cheese bastards is seriously making me rethink my life choices. It's vile._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_August 14, 2017_

_Macbeth,_

_I will thumb-wrestle you into the ground! And if you'd rather hug me first, that's okay._

_Oh, I have to tell you about this. I went to the bakery yesterday to get some of this delicious Hawaiian bread they make - I think they put pineapple juice in it, it is just so sinfully sweet, I can't even - and there was a sale at Sephora. I went balls to the wall in there, got a completely new set of everything. I've been toying with the idea of trying my hand at contouring, but I don't know if I really need to go that crazy with my makeup. It feels excessive. But the colors. The options. You don't even know, Macbeth. I found nirvana._

_Also, sorry for the delayed letter. I ended up in the hospital with dehydration after a root canal gone wrong. I was a bit too medicated and didn't drink enough, and then I passed out while walking out of my building to go and get a gallon of milk. I swear, I'm not always a hot mess like this. I'm alright now, though, so no need to worry._

_-Lucy_

* * *

_September 19th, 2017_

_Lucy,_

_I think you'd look amazing with Pat McGrath MatteTrance. Look for Full Blooded, it's a deep wine color that would make your lips pop like no other. I'm partial to Deep Void, and especially matte, but that's because I'm pasty. Too much shine gives me indigestion. And yes, I used to wear makeup constantly when I wasn't locked up. I'd considered going to school for it, but there was no way I could have paid for something like that. I wish I had a picture of it to send to you. Actually, there's a way you can see it! If you look up my mugshot, I was wearing makeup that day. I think my lipstick might have smudged when the cops tackled me, but it'll give you an idea, at least._

_It kind of kills me inside that they don't allow us to have makeup. Toner and moisturizer is hard enough to come by, do you have any idea how fast I'd get shanked if I had access to even dollar store eye shadow? I watched one guy literally beat someone to death just because he had one of those perfume inserts from a Cosmo. Erik told me after the fact that some of the guys in here just smell it and pretend they're with a woman while… well, while they're_ _alone_ _. I'll put it that way._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_October 12th, 2017_

_Macbeth,_

_I mean this in the friendliest way possible, but I love you. I bought that lipstick after your recommendation, and I'm floored by it. It's so intense! I never would've tried this before, but I did a little smoky eye thing that turned out decent this time, and I'm a fierce bitch now. I'd never walk outside with this much makeup on. I'd feel like a total drag queen. I love makeup, but I'm nowhere near professional level with it._

_And I looked up your mugshot. I'm officially jealous. I need you to get out of prison so you can come and do my makeup every single day! There was quite a bit of fangirling on my part when I zoomed in on the picture to look at your eyeliner. How do you get such a fine point like that? Every time I try, it just doesn't work. Maybe I need to practice a little more. I bet you'd make a killing if you did tutorial videos on YouTube. There are a ton of them, but some of these people who are making them are just… They have no business putting makeup on, let alone trying to instruct other people on how to do it._

_Also, I checked the guidelines, and I'm allowed to get you a magazine subscription. It says on here that they'll remove the little postcard inserts before you get it so you don't try ordering anything yourself. Would it be alright if I got you a subscription? Whichever magazine you want. Actually, Erik too, if he's interested. You said he reads a lot, and I'm sure there are only so many times someone can read the same thing. It'll help both of you guys keep in touch with the outside world a little more. If not, then it's no big deal. Just don't say no to it if you don't want to impose on me financially. I wouldn't have offered if I couldn't afford it. Just let me know._

_-Lucy_

* * *

_October 31st, 2017_

_Lucy,_

_I would love to see you wearing makeup sometime. You strike me as a nude lip kind of woman, but you've got a great complexion to pair with reds. Would you feed my inner fashionista? Just a picture of the face. And if you send one with no makeup, I can mark it up and show you how to contour for those days when you just need a little extra edge. Give me a list of the products you've got on hand, too? It'll take some practice, but knowing what you've got to work with is a step in the right direction._

_And Happy Halloween! Are you dressing up this year?_

_I talked to Erik about the magazine thing. He said, "Thanks but no thanks. Tell your girlfriend to just spoil you." I swear, he will never understand that you and I are just friends._

_The only plus side to him saying you're my girlfriend - especially where the other inmates are concerned - is that it gave him a reason to finally deal with Kurohebi's creeping ass. That jackass came into our cell when I was down in the laundry room and Erik was off with some Twink, and tried to take one of the pictures you sent me. That one with you and the flower. Redfox saw it though, and he told Erik about it after the fact. So, Erik ended up in Kurohebi's cell with Redfox, and they "reminded" him that it's a big no-no in here to try fucking with someone's girl. Which, apparently, according to them, is what you are to me._

_Redfox saw your picture when Erik took it back, and now it's all over the block that I'm dating a supermodel. They're not wrong, I guess. You're beautiful enough to be a model, if you wanted to. But I already know you're going to be a writer. With the talent you have, I'd hate for you to waste it on something like modeling._

_If you want to get me a subscription, I don't mind. I don't even really know where to start though, so use your best judgment. Remember when I said I was into art, and then just sort of avoided telling you what it was? It's makeup. So, if you find a great makeup magazine, I'll gladly read it. Thank you, Lucy. You really do spoil me._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_November 23rd, 2017_

_Macbeth,_

_Here's another picture. I hope I did this right. I followed your directions, I think. It's Thanksgiving today, and you never told me what your favorite food is. And you're not allowed to say prison food, because that's just a bold-faced lie. No one likes prison food so…_

Macbeth frowned at the awkward scribble where her sentence cut off, almost as though the pen had slipped on the page. There was more to the letter, but when his gaze travelled to the next line, it was a new date. Almost as though she'd stopped writing and picked it back up days later.

_November 29th, 2017_

_Sorry I cut off the earlier letter. Something big happened recently, and I really wish we could talk in more than just letters. You remember how I told you that me and my dad didn't really talk all that often? We usually got together for Christmas, maybe Thanksgiving if he wasn't busy with work. We tried to make it work, even though we couldn't get along. Well, I didn't know if he was busy this year, and I was calling him while writing to you. His secretary answered, and she was crying, and…_

_An hour before I called, he had a stroke. I guess he was sick for a while and just never told me about it. He probably didn't want me to worry about him. I worry about people really easily, so maybe he was just trying to spare my feelings? But if I'd known he was sick, I would have tried to spend more time with him. I would have made things work so I could have some good memories of him when he was gone. He lives in Milwaukee, so it was just a couple hour drive to get to the hospital. But by the time I got there…_

_He died. He died on Thanksgiving. He'd flatlined right when I got to his room, and I wasn't there for him. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. He was the only family I had left, and now I have to deal with lawyers and his business and… This is all just too much to do by myself. I haven't been able to stop crying since that day. We didn't get along, but he was still my dad and I still loved him. And now he's gone, and I'll never get to make things right._

_Macbeth, I wish you were here with me. I wish you could just hold me and tell me things would work out. That everything will be alright. I wish I could just talk to you and hear your voice. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt as bad, because I'd have someone with me. I could… I don't know. I'm just so sad right now._

_-Lucy_

"Fuck." Macbeth sat up on his bunk and stared down at the page, the little crinkled spots here and there that he could tell were from her tears falling onto the paper while she'd written to him.

Erik's head dropped down from his own bunk. "Everything alright, man?"

"No," Macbeth said, looking up at his friend. "Erik, get me a phone card. Right now."

"Wait, what? Who the hell are you gonna call?"

"Lucy."

Erik's eye widened and his head disappeared for a moment before he jumped off the top bunk. "What the hell are you talking about? You can't call her."

"Why not?" Macbeth tucked the letter into the pocket of his grey jumpsuit and stood, then lifted his mattress and started rummaging through the letters he'd gotten from Lucy. She'd given him her phone number at one point earlier that year, saying that he was welcome to call her if it was something he was interested in doing.

"Because she's your penpal, man. You don't know this girl."

"I know her better than most people," he shot back over his shoulder. "Just get me a damn phone card, Erik."

"What the hell am I getting out of this?"

He scowled and rounded on his friend, then shoved his shoulder while growling, "Don't pull that prison yard bullshit with me. Do it because I'm your friend, Erik. I do the same for you with no questions."

Erik glared and pushed him back. "What the hell is so important that you need something like this?"

"Her dad died."

"Big fucking deal."

"He died right when she got to the hospital, Erik."

"And I fucking care, because?"

Macbeth knew it was a low blow, but that didn't stop him. "What if you get out and find out Granny's dying, and when you get there, she's dead?"

"Don't fucking talk about her," Erik spat.

"Erik, you love her. We both do. And I know you'd be devastated," Macbeth said. "You've lost time with her being stuck in here, and you can never get that back. I need to talk to Lucy, because she walked into his hospital room right when he flatlined. She's messed up over this. I need to talk to her."

Erik's hands clenched into fists, and Macbeth was sure he was teetering between giving in and punching him right in the face. After a moment, Erik relaxed. "You fucking owe me for this, Macbeth," he sighed.

"Fine."

"Seriously. I'm gonna have to go and deal with Redfox to get one of his phone cards."

"Just tell me what you want when you need a favor," Macbeth said quickly.

Erik turned toward their open cell door, then looked back at his friend. "Come with me," he said, and Macbeth nearly cringed at the defeated tone in his voice. "Redfox has some fucking stamina, so you'll want the card before I do anything with him."

Macbeth nodded and followed Erik out of their cell. He knew what it meant as soon as Erik mentioned Redfox. The only people he traded things like cigarettes with were the ones he didn't find attractive. And it was no secret to anyone in their block that Redfox had a thing for men with darker skin. "I'll owe you two favors," he said softly as they walked down toward the end of the block.

"One of them is gonna be getting me some goddamn mouthwash," Erik muttered. "I swear to fucking god, he's obsessed with my mouth on his goddamn asshole."

Macbeth shuddered, but nodded all the same as they stopped in front of Redfox's cell. And he was there, sitting inside with a wicked grin, pulling his long raven hair up and away from his pierced face.

"Midnight needs a phone card to call his girl," Erik said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Is that so?"

Macbeth nodded, glancing around the area to make sure no guards were nearby. "Her dad died on Thanksgiving. I need to call her."

"And who's planning on paying me for this favor?" Redfox's narrowed ruby eyes glinted when Erik stepped forward into his cell.

"Give him the card first," Erik said. He waited until Redfox reached down and grabbed one of the cards with prepaid time on it that could be used for the payphones by the guard station, then watched as it was tossed to Macbeth. "That had better be full."

"It is," Redfox said.

"Thanks, Cobra," Macbeth said softly, turning away from the cell.

"Gihi, come here ya little coffee bean."

* * *

Lucy wiped her nose and sniffed while curled up in bed. She hadn't had the energy to do much of anything lately, but there was still a lot to be done. It really didn't help that her father's funeral was set for the fourth of December. He'd been cremated, at his request, but she still had to have a funeral for him. It was mainly for his business associates. She hated it.

Her phone rang where it sat charging on the nightstand. She had half a mind not to answer it, but the lawyer handling her father's estate was supposed to be calling her sometime that day. She didn't recognize the number though. It was some 800 number, and the last thing she wanted to deal with was some telemarketer. Still, she answered. "Lucy Heartfilia, speaking. How can I-"

" _This is a pre-paid collect call from…"_ came an automated woman's voice. Lucy's brows drew together, only to fly up to her hairline a moment later.

" _Macbeth."_ His voice was a soft, rich baritone. And damnit, she couldn't breathe.

" _An inmate at… Aven State Prison,"_ the automated woman continued. _"This call is subject to recording and monitoring. To accept charges, press one-"_

She'd never pressed one faster in her life.

" _Thank you for using Securus. You may start the conversation now."_

There was a soft click, and then she knew that she was connected. He was on the other end of the line, waiting to hear her speak. "H-Hello?"

" _Lucy, is everything alright?"_

"M-Macbeth, is it really…"

He laughed, and it was a raspy little thing. She wondered if he laughed often being locked up. She could almost picture him sitting in front of a payphone, wearing the grey overalls of an inmate, smiling with the phone receiver just next to his beautiful lips.  _"It's me, Lucy. I only have fifteen minutes at a time, but it's dead in here today. If we need more time, I can call you again."_

And finally, she smiled. Her tears started anew, but she didn't care. It didn't matter in the slightest that he could hear her crying. Not when he spoke again.

" _I got your letter about Thanksgiving. I can't be there with you, and this is all I can offer, but…"_

"N-No, it's fine," she sniffed. "It's perfect. Thank you, Macbeth."

" _How are you holding up?"_

* * *

_December 3rd, 2017_

_Lucy,_

_You just need a little more highlighting in these spots, and then it's perfect. And a little more blending. This would be so much easier if I could show you. Actually, if you go look up Sorano Aguria, she could teach you. I used to do her makeup all the time when she had a date._

_And I'm telling you, soup-sandwiches are actually pretty good. Half-cooked ramen with some meat and condiments. It's better than you'd think. I'll give you a recipe sometime, and you tell me what you think._

_I loved talking on the phone with you today, even though the topic wasn't the most pleasant. I know you won't get this until after the funeral, but just remember that I'm thinking about you. I think about you every day. Sometimes, I read your old letters again, and I think back to how awkward things were when we first started writing to one another. I'm so sorry that you lost him like that. And like I said on the phone, if I could be there, I would in a heartbeat._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_December 9th, 2017_

_Macbeth,_

_Yukino Aguria's older sister? I had a contemporary lit class with Yukino in college. She was a freshman and I needed to fill an elective to graduate that semester. She told me her sister was my age, working for Ralph Lauren, I think. But that was a couple years ago, now. I still keep in touch with Yukino though. She's so serious sometimes, but when she drinks… Good god is she funny. She's dating this guy who goes by the name Rogue. They're adorable together. He's very romantic, and she just eats up the attention, but I think it's because he's really subtle about it. I'm happy for them._

_And soup-sandwiches sound vile! I refuse to make that. But, I'll compromise. You make it for me, since you're clearly an expert here, and I'll give it a shot. We'll trade. You make me a soup-sandwich, and I'll make you my house-famous chicken and tomato panini thing with way too much cheese to be healthy. They're deceptively small, but so filling. I usually make them with six inches of french bread at a time, and I get a solid three meals out of them. That might be because I stuff them full of chicken though. It's a very messy panini._

_And thank you for calling me that day. It was everything I needed to hear. Even if you'd said all the wrong things, I think just hearing your voice for the first time made it perfect. You have a really nice voice. I can totally picture you being in some lounge with a guitar, just dropping the panties of all your fans - men and women alike. Do you like singing? There's still so much to learn about you!_

_-Lucy_

* * *

_December 13th, 2017_

_Lucy,_

_What are your plans for the holidays? We don't really do much here. Also, thank you for the magazines. I told Erik you wanted a list of books from him, like you asked. He made a joke about my girlfriend hitting on him. I made sure to tell him it's not like that, we're just friends. You have no idea how many times he's asked me if I'm not just gay. I'm pretty sure he'd be happy to find out if I was._

_We've been writing for three years now, and I still have to remind him that it's different with us. He doesn't get it. But you do._

_I'm so happy that you started writing to me, Lucy. It's made being locked up at least a little bearable. And it's a deal. We'll trade my horrible prison food for that delicious sounding sandwich. I'm already drooling a little bit._

_Oh, and thank you for sending money for my account. Erik will be happy to know that he doesn't have to do anymore favors for Redfox for phone cards - even though, I swear, he's really not all that opposed to having time alone with Redfox. There's chemistry between them._

_Tell me what day you're free and I'll make sure to call you again so we can talk. If it's busy down by the phones, they're really strict about the fifteen minute rule. You might have to wait a while to talk to me whatever day it is if I'm not first in line. And trying to call you back might not happen in the same day. I'd have to go to the end of whatever line is there._

_Still, I'm looking forward to talking to you again. And to answer your question, no I don't sing. I'm not good at it, and after enough times of hearing Erik complain that I was going to damage his hearing, I stopped trying. Not that I ever seriously tried anyway. But I'm not the only one with a nice voice, I guess. Your voice fits. It's just as lovely as you are._

_If it's alright, I'll try to call you on Christmas Eve. It's three days shy of the three-year anniversary of you writing to me, but we can just pretend, right?_

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_December 21st, 2017_

_Macbeth,_

_Mail's moving a little slower with Christmas coming up. I just got your letter today. No plans for the holidays. No family to spend it with, and my friends from college mostly moved on to bigger and better things. It's probably just as lonely for me. Well, it feels that way sometimes. I'm always looking forward to your next letter. Otherwise, it's just work and home. It'll be weird not going to see my Dad this year, and knowing that it's because he's gone and not because he has some business meeting in Tokyo or something. It's taking longer than I'd expected to get things squared away with his business, but his will signed everything over to me anyway._

_Now, on top of figuring out how to deal with all that insanity, I have to go down to his estate sometime and decide what I'm going to do with it all. I don't need some big mansion for just me. Talk about lonely and depressing. I grew up there, and I never wanted to go back once I left for college._

_My friend Erza came to visit last week though. She couldn't make it for the funeral, but she'd wanted to come to be here with me. She all but forced me to take a trip out to the mountains to go skiing and take my mind off of things. I'd forgotten how competitive she could be. Oh, and I broke my ankle. Before you freak out, this isn't the first time I've broken a bone with her. Last time it was my pinky while we were playing ping pong. She's a beast._

_But I'm just laid up in bed right now, and my neighbor Freed has been bringing me my mail. I think he might be gay, or just really metro. I'm not sure, but he's so sweet and his hair is this really enchanting shade of green. And he's British. I think he gets a kick out of me laughing over his accent. Honestly, I might be squishing on him a little. He just seems like such a great guy, and he does make a nice cup of tea. Probably all those years of practice while speaking that Queen's English. When I saw that I had a letter from you, I asked if he could stop by again later and take my letter to the post office. I hope I can get it to you before Christmas. Calling on the twenty-fourth is fine. I'll be waiting by my phone._

_-Lucy_

* * *

_February 21st, 2018_

_Macbeth,_

_You didn't call. And I didn't hear from you after my last letter. Is everything alright in there? I checked the news for the state prison and I saw that there was an attempted break-out just before Christmas. I want to say that I hope it wasn't you, and I don't believe you'd do something like that and jeopardize your freedom, but I don't know what it's like in there the way you do._

_And you probably wouldn't have told me something like that in a letter._

_There's a big part of me that wants to cling to the belief you wouldn't try to escape. But if that's the case, and you weren't the one who tried to run, then you'd be writing me back, right?_

_Unless this has something to do with me saying I'm starting to squish on Freed? I don't know if you feel jealous over that, but just know that I won't get jealous if you have another squish, or ten squishes. Maybe I'm reading into it too much._

_It's been lonely not having your letters for the past two months. My ankle's healing nicely though, and I've got this enormous boot on so I can walk around a little bit here and there. Freed still brings my mail up so I don't have to go downstairs every day. I hope you'll write me soon. I miss hearing from you._

_-Lucy_

* * *

_March 1st, 2018_

_Lucy,_

_This is Erik. Macbeth can't write to you right now. When that Redfox asshole tried to break out, Macbeth was down in the laundry room working, and he was planning on going through there to get out. Macbeth is a fucking idiot. He tried to stop Redfox, and when they started fighting, he called the guards. Macbeth isn't a fighter. He's a scrawny shit who's always depended on me when it comes to getting physical with some asshole. But he tried anyway, like a fucking moron, and got his ass kicked._

_The guards came running and saw Redfox making a break for it, figured out what was going on and that Macbeth tried to stop it._

_He's up in the infirmary now._

_I went up there a couple days ago, gave some bullshit excuse about the flu. Wendy, she's one of the nurses here, called me out on it, but I told her I wanted to check on Macbeth. She says he'll be alright, but he's not ready to come back down to gen-pop._

_He had a concussion, some cuts and bruises when he went in. He had to have stitches, since Redfox shanked him. They took him to the hospital for a while when he got an infection in the wound that they couldn't treat here. But he's fine now._

_I paid Siegrain two packs of ramen to get some info on what's happening with Macbeth - he's awake and healing up, and he should be back down here with me again soon. Sawyer down in the mail room said you've sent a couple letters now, and they're holding onto them until he's back down here. I got your address from the letters he's got under his mattress. Hope that's alright. I figured you're probably worried about him, and I know for a fact that he's sitting up there, itching to write to you again._

_I'll tell him that you wrote to him when he comes back though. Also, thanks for those books. They're helping to pass the time. If you wanna write back while you wait for him, that's fine with me. I'm not much for writing to people. It's pretty fucking weird, actually, since I don't know you. But you're fine in Macbeth's book, so you're fine by me._

_Oh, and thanks for writing to him for all this time. It's really done him some good. He's not as depressing to be around anymore._

_-Erik_

* * *

_March 19th, 2018_

_Lucy,_

_I'm so glad that I asked to stop by the phones on the way back down to gen-pop. It was worth it to hear you smiling while we talked._

_I finally finished reading all of your letters. I'm sorry (again) that you were worried, but thank you for continuing to write to me after you got that letter from Erik. I don't know what came over me. I'm back down in my cell though, and I'm healing up just fine. Erik says he won't be messing with Redfox anymore. I guess he knew about what Redfox was planning, but he'd said that I wasn't supposed to get hurt if I was down there when he made a break for it. Erik didn't tell me. I don't blame him. Erik's beyond pissed that I was hurt as badly as I was, but I_ _did_ _try stopping Redfox, even though he's twice my size._

_I give it another two months before they're hooking up again under the pretense of favors. Erik won't admit it, but I know him. He's head over heels for Redfox. And since both of them have twenty year sentences with no chance of parole, they'll be together for a while. I just hope Erik will be alright when I do finally get out. He'll have another five years all by himself in here._

_How's your ankle doing? I don't know how long it takes for a broken ankle to heal._

_Freed sounds interesting, and I'm glad you've got a neighbor who's willing to help you out in a pinch. And no, it doesn't bother me that you've got another squish. I'm happy for you, really. I almost want to ask for a picture of him just to see what my squish competition is. (I'm just kidding. I really don't want a picture of some random guy. Erik might though… but he won't have the purest intentions in mind.)_

_You're taking care of yourself though, right? I can't imagine trying to get things done while not really being able to move. Hopefully you've got your computer right there so you can scour the internet for more crap you don't really need. Your shopping habits are ridiculous._

_Oh, when I was up in the infirmary, Wendy told me about some outlet mall that's opening up in May. They're going to have that one nerdy store you were talking about only being online. Geek something. You should go there when you're up and about, and try not to buy the whole store. I'll shop vicariously through you._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_April 2nd, 2018_

_Macbeth,_

_I was so happy to hear from you! I was worried sick when Erik sent that letter to me, and then when I read what happened… Please stay safe, okay? I don't care about my ankle nearly as much as I care about you staying safe. But, I guess you'll have a pretty cool scar now. My badass squish._

_So, I have a weird question. I know you've gotten a better idea of all this stuff between us, but it's been long enough and I feel like we really know each other now. Would it be weird if I asked you to be my zucchini? If you don't want to, that's okay. I just wanted to ask._

_I joined this group online, like a forum for people like me and you, and when I said we'd been writing to each other for three years and that we're both squishing on each other, they asked if we wanted to take it another step. I printed out what I could find about zucchinis - it feels weird to call it queerplatonic to me - so, let me know what you think. I feel like we're at that point, but I wanted your input on it._

_-Lucy_

* * *

_April 15th, 2018_

_Lucy,_

_That is the weirdest word for a relationship. I read the stuff you sent, and I don't know… Do you really think we're there? You've never asked me about what I did to get locked up. I don't really like talking about it in the first place, and I just assumed that you were trying to be polite, but you know everything else already. I've given you a few hints about it here and there. I don't know if you just didn't pick up on them, or if you ignored it because I wasn't blatantly saying it._

_I'm willing to talk about it, if you wanna know, because it's you. So don't think it's something that's off limits just because it's the reason we can't meet in person. I really wish this place had a visitation system. Then we could have already met in person. Even if it was with glass between us._

_I will say that I'm guilty. I did what I was locked up for, and I won't deny it. I'm not a violent person, though. It was robbery, plain and simple. Erik admitted to the murder charge, so his sentence is longer than mine. And yeah, we did it together. Sawyer too. He was the getaway driver. But it's okay to ask. I'm glad you want to be my zucchini (it's still a weird word for this), and I'd like that too. But not yet. After we talk some more, then maybe we can do that._

_Thank you for asking me though. I'm sure it took a lot for you to even bring it up, and I don't want you to feel like this has to change anything between us. I just want you to know about that before you decide whether that's really something you'd want._

_I just talked to Erik, and he told me there's some rule on that site you got my information from that says you're not allowed to ask about what I did. I can understand that for some people, but I think it's perfectly fine for us to talk about it after three and a half years of writing to each other._

_Tell me more about that forum you were on. Did you like it?_

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_August 22nd, 2018_

_Macbeth,_

_That's really messed up, what happened when you were arrested. I don't condone what you three did, but I understand what you're saying. At least your dad won't be able to come after you anymore. And tell Erik I said thank you for giving you permission to tell me his side of things. And thank him for protecting you, alright?_

_I know we didn't know each other then, but thinking about it now makes me want to just hug you both. I had no idea when you told me before that your dad wasn't really the best out there, that you meant all of this. But he's gone now._

_And now that I think about it, I was probably just feeding into the pressure of those people I was talking to, bringing up the zucchini thing. You're right, it's too soon for that. Sorry if I made things awkward, but I'm really glad that you were willing to be honest with me about it. That's one of the things I love about what we have. Whatever you want to call it. Maybe just friends for now?_

_-Lucy_

* * *

_September 1st, 2018_

_Lucy,_

_Friends sounds good. Like I said, we'll get there eventually, I think. I can see it happening, but just not yet._

_Now tell me more about this book you've decided to write. I'm glad you're going to sit down and really start working on a book. Use that degree that your father paid for, and show him that it was worth the effort you put in while in college. You'll make him proud, Lucy._

_I read the plotting stuff you did. It seems kind of bare right now. Erik told me about a book that you should look into. I swear, he will read anything you put in front of him. We've got it here, so I'll put the ISBN at the end of the letter and you can look it up. There might be a more updated version out there. I do like the ending you have planned for the story, but I'm wondering how you're planning on getting from the beginning to that point._

_And I was wrong. It took six months for Erik and Redfox to start back up on their shenanigans. Honestly, thank god for it. He's been an ornery bastard lately. I might not understand it, but I guess he just needed one of those "grudge fucks" he talks about._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_December 19th, 2020_

_Macbeth,_

_My book is getting published! It's going to release in a couple months! This is my fifth draft of this letter, because I'm literally shaking right now! Can you believe it? It only took two years to write and edit and revise._

_I don't think I could've done this without you. Your letters always gave me more confidence in my writing, and in life in general. And I'm so happy that you and Erik read through my drafts for different chapters. Your ideas really helped me sort out those rough spots. And Erik is oddly shrewd with his critiques, but I needed to hear it. Tell him that he should be an editor when he gets out. Shit, I'll hire him to be_ _my_ _editor when he's out!_

_Freed is taking me out to dinner tonight to celebrate. He asked if it was alright to bring his girlfriend along, and I told him the more the merrier. I've met Levy a couple times now. Those two are so made for each other. Yukino and Rogue will be meeting us down there as well._

_Shit I don't know what to wear tonight! Or how I'll do my makeup! I picked up another tube of that Fenty Ma'Damn red lipstick you told me about. It's one of my favorite shades now. Maybe that and a black dress? I'll get Freed to take a picture of me tonight, and I'll send it to you in my next letter. Then you can tell me if I'm looking like a serious, responsible, published author!_

_I'm screaming right now. I'm just so happy!_

_Tell me what's going on in there though. You were saying on the phone that some guy named Ichiya kept trying to smell you? I mean, I bet you smell nicer than most of the men in there, but still. That's just creepy._

_PS - Happy birthday! Don't think I forgot when your birthday is. I sent some money as well, so go down to the commissary and get yourself something, okay? And yes, I know that I spoil you, but I'm allowed to spoil my squish sometimes._

_-Lucy_

* * *

_January 15th, 2021_

_Lucy,_

_You look beautiful in that book release picture you sent. Just like the kind of author I'd want to read books from. Thanks for the advance copies for me and Erik (he says thanks, too, and has threatened to gut me like a fish if I forget to tell you that he's already finished reading it, and he wants a sequel)._

_And you wrote about me in your book. You didn't have to dedicate it to me._

" _For Macbeth, without whom this book would never have come to fruition. I love you, squish."_

_Well, I love you too, Lucy. As embarrassing as it is, and even with Erik teasing me relentlessly about it, it's good to know that you're not embarrassed about knowing me. I worry about that a lot._

_I'm sorry to hear that Sting guy you hooked up with wasn't good in bed. You already know that Erik reads my letters over my shoulder most times. He says he'd be straight for a day just for you to get a decent lay. Sorry about him. But when you told me that you met a new guy and he was really attractive, I was rooting for you. I know you wouldn't have dated him, but even just having a casual thing to get your needs met is better than celibacy when you're not like me. Don't give up though. I'm sure there's a guy out there just waiting to rock your world._

…  _Erik has volunteered himself to rock your world. I'm tempted to tell Redfox about this just to see what happens._

_And my parole hearing is coming up in two months. Time's been flying lately. I've served eighty percent of my sentence already, so it almost seems pointless to go to the hearing, but if I can get out a little earlier, then I'm all for it. Even if I've only got three years until my sentence is up. I guess it's time to start thinking about what I'll do when I get out. I've always felt like I'd just rot in this place, even though they gave me fifteen years max. What do you think I'd be able to do when I get out? Maybe working at Sephora. Then I could help you pick out your makeup and get employee discounts on it for both of us._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_March 9th, 2021_

_Macbeth,_

_You never told me what the date was for your hearing. Did you know that if your parole is granted, they'll want to place you in a work-study program unless you have someone local that you can stay with? I mean, you don't seem like a flight risk to me._

_I was talking with Yukino recently, and she said that she'd be happy to put you up in her spare room. She got married last year, and Rogue is pretty nice. Really quiet though. Y'know, I considered asking you to stay here with me, but that seemed like way too fast a move for us._

_Yukino told me some stories about you though. Mostly about you and Sorano ganging up on her when she was younger, painting her face to look like a hooker. You ridiculous monster. You don't have to say yes, but it is an option for you. I'll give you her address if you want to discuss it with her. I hope that wasn't stepping over the line, but I just wanted to help._

_Oh, and she showed me some pictures Sorano gave her from when you guys were kids. I have officially seen you with pristine makeup (unlike the smudged lipstick and grumpy face in your mugshot), and I'm so jealous right now. Twelve year old you was better with a compact than me at thirty. This isn't fair. And you're not supposed to be prettier than me! I hope you'll go back to wearing makeup when you get out. It suits you._

_-Lucy_

* * *

_April 17th, 2021_

_Lucy,_

_It's Erik. I'm still waiting for that sequel. I know it takes time to write, but I didn't want you to forget. I've still got another ten years in here, so just try to get a second book written before I'm out of prison, alright? And don't think I didn't notice how you wrote what me and Redfox are doing into the plot. You saucy wench. And before you even think of asking, yes, we're together now. I know you'd be asking Macbeth anyway, so I might as well just tell you myself. Nosy._

_I know you haven't heard from Macbeth in a while. He's been sulking. He hasn't heard from the parole board yet, and I think he was starting to get his hopes up again. Don't worry, it's nothing you did. He does this every time. I keep telling him to just skip them, like I do._

_Anyway, there's this thing going on in June, and he probably hasn't told you about it yet. It's like a Family Day sort of thing for the inmates, I guess. Neither of us have family, really - and hell no, I won't ask my grandmother to come visit me in prison, she'll sneak her broom in here and beat my ass with it - so I sent my shitty invitation thing they made over to Yukino. I wanna catch up with her, and Sorano's in Italy now._

_But because_ _someone_ _is being a broody bitch, I figured I'd send you the invitation from Macbeth. He really does want to finally meet you. I guess he probably wanted to do it when he wasn't locked up anymore. Don't let that stop you from coming. Even if he does get word about his parole, it'll take months for the paperwork to finish processing and for him to get out of here. This'll be good for him. Write me back and let me know if you'll come, okay? You and Yukino can even ride down together._

_-Erik_

* * *

_May 1st, 2021_

_Lucy,_

_Please tell me Erik sent you that invitation to this ridiculous Family Day thing they're making us go through. The last thing I need is for him to convince some hooker to come down and embarrass me. That sounds like something he'd do. I wouldn't put it past him._

_Either way, I would like it if you'd come down for that. Yukino told Erik she'll be there, so you'll have someone you already know (in person) there with you. It's probably sudden. Sorry for not writing recently. Or calling. I just wanted some time to myself for a bit. And I was re-reading your book. Erik won't shut up about it. I wonder what he's going to do if I ever get out of here._

_Well, he told me that you're already aware of the biggest piece of prison gossip in the history of ever. The wolves started freaking out, thinking they wouldn't be able to trade their bodies for favors from Erik and Redfox. I'm guessing monogamy isn't one of their priorities while they're locked up. And yes, Ichiya is still trying to smell me, and he mumbles about 'parfum' all the time. I'm afraid to even ask what he was locked up for, but part of me thinks it's something along the lines of stalking. Or maybe he's a serial killer. I don't want to know._

_-Macbeth_

* * *

_May 6th, 2021_

_Macbeth,_

_I got super inspired for the sequel, so I've been writing nonstop. This will be short because I'm pretty sure carpal tunnel is coming soon. Yes, I'll definitely be there. I can't wait to finally meet you in person! And I talked with Yukino. She'll drive us both down there, since I can get lost in a paper bag._

_It's not funny, stop laughing. I know you're thinking about that spelunking story I told you last week on the phone. Stop laughing, Macbeth. I really thought I was in another dimension, okay? Anyway, the invitation says it starts at twelve. Should I try to sneak in a candy bar for you? Snickers is your favorite, right? Well, my hand is cramping. If I don't respond by the week before, just remember I'll be seeing you soon._

_-Lucy_

* * *

It was Wednesday June 9, 2021. Lucy was never going to forget that day, she knew, as she rode in Yukino's car down to Aven State Prison. It was the day she would finally meet her penpal of nearly seven years. But there would be plenty of people there, reuniting with their loved ones who were incarcerated. If she happened to cry a little bit, then it wouldn't be weird. Her makeup might not survive the ordeal, but that was alright. The drive was silent for the most part. Yukino wasn't one for talking much while she was driving. Lucy didn't blame her. She was five months pregnant, radiant and glowing, and still suffering from morning sickness.

She'd even offered to drive, but Yukino had turned it down. Apparently her morning sickness turned into motion sickness that could rival her husband's if she was in the passenger seat.

They finally arrived at the prison, and Lucy looked around to take everything in. The parking lot was full, but she couldn't see people milling about, waiting for this event to begin. Maybe they were already inside, meeting with their loved ones.

Yukino parked and they got out of the car. That was when Lucy really took in the place Macbeth had been living in since 2009. The towering grey walls were oppressive, weighing down on her even from where they stood in the parking lot. Rows of barbed wire lined the top of every wall, the guard towers on each corner, and even the twenty foot wall off to the left that she knew surrounded the yard where inmates were forced to spend time outside. That was always Macbeth's least favorite part of the day.

They continued walking, a little slower for Yukino's sake, and Lucy barely noticed someone standing by a uniformed officer, smoking a cigarette. They were leaning against the wall, pale and thin with bare arms crossed over a lean chest. She couldn't see the person's face from this distance, and could barely make out the color of their hair while standing in the shade. What she really noticed about them in passing was the orange and black striped skinny jeans tucked into worn combat boots.

"Erik told me about that," Yukino said, drawing Lucy's attention to her. "That's where the inmates wait for their ride to pick them up after getting released. The guard has to stay with them until their ride shows up."

Lucy nodded, looking around the parking lot again. "Are we early or something?" she asked. "Or late?"

Yukino shrugged and they stopped once they reached the shade, only a few feet from the man smoking a cigarette with the guard. "Maybe. Should we wait outside and see if anyone else shows up?"

Lucy was beyond nervous right then. She definitely needed a minute to collect herself before going inside. Before finally meeting Macbeth, and probably Erik now that she thought about it. She still hadn't a clue what he looked like, but that was because Macbeth had never told her his last name. Now that she thought about it, he  _had_  written her a couple letters in the past few years. His first and last name would have to be on the envelope for the prison to mail it out.

"Lucy?" Yukino asked gently.

"Huh? Oh... Yeah, let's… let's wait a minute." Or ten. Maybe not ten. God, was Macbeth sitting inside, waiting for her to show up? Hopefully he wasn't nearly this nervous. Maybe he was just excited. And she was excited too. She was finally going to meet the man she'd been writing to for years, and it wasn't that she didn't feel safe. It was a prison. There would be guards everywhere. And she knew that Macbeth wasn't a violent person. Even Erik had told her as much. And Yukino had as well when they'd been planning this trip.

"Nervous?" Yukino asked, smiling softly at Lucy while rubbing a hand over her slightly swollen stomach.

Lucy couldn't help but laugh, even though it was mostly at herself. "Am I crazy?" she asked. "Meeting my penpal like this. It's like… I know him, but I don't."

"I don't think your crazy."

Lucy bit her lip and stared at the ground, listening to the man take another drag of his cigarette and exhale. "Maybe I am though. We've been writing to each other for almost seven years, Yukino. He's the best friend I've ever had, and I don't even know what he looks like now. We talk on the phone at least once a month, write constantly… But..."

Yukino placed a gentle hand on her elbow. "But you know  _him_. He opened up to you, Lucy. That has to count for something."

She nodded quickly, then moved to lean against the nearby wall. "It does. It counts for a whole lot of somethings." How could it not? Macbeth had told her things about himself that he hadn't even told Erik, his best friend and cellmate. Those two were as close as could be, but he'd still kept part of himself hidden. Except with her. He told her everything, just like she did with him.

Of course him opening up to her meant something.

"I just… What if, when we meet, he doesn't like me?" Lucy sighed and tightened her arms around herself. "What if he was humoring me because it gave him something to do to pass the time? Even meeting me today, it could just be something for him to do. Something different. I really want him to like me."

She'd spent two whole days just deciding what to wear when she finally met him for the first time. He'd seen her wearing dresses and skirts and pants. Every sort of outfit imaginable with the exception of her mini-skirts and tube tops. And her bathing suit. But for this, she'd wanted to make a good first impression, and then she'd berated herself for it because this was Macbeth. They'd already gotten past their first impressions. It was why she'd finally decided that a pair of grey slacks with a black pinstripe blouse and black pumps was the way to go.

She had at least tried to do her makeup a little fancier this time around, just so that she could maybe show him how much she'd learned since he'd been helping her figure it all out. And she was wearing that red lipstick he'd told her he really liked.

Yukino laughed softly, shaking her head. "Lucy, everyone you meet falls in love with you."

"I don't want that with him," she muttered. But he already knew that. He understood it.

"I don't mean romantically, silly," Yukino said with a roll of her eyes. "I just mean, you're likeable. And I've known Macbeth and Erik since I was little. They've clearly made some mistakes, but they're good people. The ones they care about, in any capacity, are the most important people in their lives. And you're one of those people for Macbeth."

Lucy sighed heavily and pushed off the wall. She kind of wished that she'd been able to bring her purse with her. But all of that had been left in the car, even her cell phone. Yukino had brought her own purse, but she'd been the one driving, and she'd said that she had no problem with them wanting to confiscate her bag while they were visiting.

Her feet began moving, pulling her into a nervous line of pacing back and forth while she started to well and truly panic. It was stupid, but she just couldn't help it.

"What if I'm not though? Yukino, this was stupid. I shouldn't be here. I should've told him that we could meet when he got out, whether it was parole or when his sentence was up. Not like this. Then I could be more prepared."

She was being silly though, because Lucy had been mentally preparing for this since she'd gotten that invitation from Erik on Macbeth's behalf.

"What if I go to shake his hand or something, and he doesn't want me to? Or, god, what if my stupid brain says  _Oh, here's your squish, let's just hug him because you've been dreaming about hugging him to say hello for years!_  and then I do it, and he flips out?"

She didn't see Yukino biting her lips to stop herself from laughing.

"Or!" Lucy turned and started back toward Yukino, unaware that she'd been only a foot away from the man who was in the process of putting out his cigarette on his boot. "Or what if I find a way to embarrass myself? You've met me, you know I'm a total klutz. What if my knees get stupid and shaky, and I go all  _foal learning to walk_  on him?"

"Lucy, it won't be that bad," Yukino said.

"I swear to god, it wouldn't surprise me if I break my ankle again." She pressed her hands over her face, and her head tipped back in defeat. "I'm doomed. Do me a favor and murder me, okay? Right here in front of the prison, just put me out of my misery, so I don't make a fool of myself!"

There was a gentle touch on her wrists that pulled her hands away from her face. That was probably for the best. She didn't need to ruin her makeup before he even saw her. Lucy's cheeks puffed out as she let out another heavy sigh that seemed to take her soul right along with it. Her eyes stayed closed.

"I'm sure this squish of yours would rather you weren't murdered," came the soft familiar baritone voice from right in front of her. "It might ruin the surprise."

Her eyes shot open in an instant, and there he was. Standing in front of her, smiling down at her with no makeup on and what she could only describe as devious giddiness shining in his crimson eyes. And what did she do? She turned into an idiot whose mouth opened and closed with not a single sound coming out.

Macbeth had aged since she'd seen his profile all those years ago. She'd stopped looking at it when they started writing to one another, and he'd told her that he had it taken down from the site. But she knew for a fact that this was him. He was still pale as could be, and his hair was pulled up into a high ponytail that was almost completely white, save for the small section of black at the top of his head.

And she knew that voice. She'd long ago memorized the soft raspiness of it, the depth when he spoke. It was almost always as though he was whispering, forcing her to listen closer to him, but she'd always been able to hear his voice even on the phone when there was a ton of noise in the background.

"Surprise, Lucy," Macbeth chuckled.

She couldn't breathe. Not well, at least. Just short, wisping breaths passed her lips while she looked from him to Yukino, who was standing beside that guard from before. And both of them were grinning at her like they knew something she didn't. Based on the man standing in front of her, when she'd thought he would be inside, they did.

"Well, I'll go sign the paperwork," Yukino giggled. The guard escorted her into the prison through a door Lucy hadn't noticed before.

She looked back at Macbeth then, memorizing his face all over again. His long lashes and the straight line of his nose. And his full, pouty lips. "Y-You're…"

"Out on parole," he said. And still, he was smiling at her. "Sorry for not telling you. I wanted to surprise you."

"H-How… What…" She couldn't have stopped the slow smile from spreading across her lips even if she'd wanted to. And she didn't want to. He was here, in front of her, and it wasn't as daunting as it had seemed just a few minutes prior. He was right here, this man she'd become so close to, and… "Oh my god, you're so tall!"

Macbeth laughed, well and truly laughed at the astonishment in her voice. When he realized that he was still holding her wrists, he slowly let go. "And you're shorter than I'd imagined." At least half a foot shorter than him. He hadn't expected that.

"So there's… there's no… thing today?"

He shook his head, lifting a hand to wind his fingers around a lock of hair in his ponytail. A nervous habit that he'd never gotten around to telling her about. "Erik's idea when we got the good news," he said. "He's a sneaky asshole, but effective."

Her response was nothing but a breathless laugh. "And Yukino?"

"She and Rogue agreed to house me until I get on my feet," he said. "I've already met with my parole officer, and he's inspected the house or whatever he has to do." He smirked then, and Lucy was sure she was going to faint. He was already pretty. That look on his face had parts of her brain going haywire that she just didn't know how to deal with. Not where Macbeth was concerned. "Why do you think we said you should ride with her?"

She shook her head and still just stared at him. This was insane. More than insane. And she was sure that he understood her surprise over the whole thing, but damnit, she'd wanted to be just a little more composed than this!

But now he was out, and they could finally do the things they'd talked about for years. They could go walking down nature trails together, as long as they were in Wisconsin. They could spend the day watching movies. They could cook for each other now, and she could try those soup-sandwiches and could make him a panini. He could spend the holidays with her, helping her make cookies, and she wouldn't have to be alone anymore. Because she'd have her squish around.

And after another moment, she realized that, if he'd been standing there - and he had, considering  _he_  was the man who'd been smoking a cigarette and wearing those orange and black skinny jeans - then he'd heard everything she said to Yukino. God, would someone kill her  _now_?

"So…" His fingers twisted around his hair a little faster. "About that zucchini thing."

Her gaze shot back to his eyes. She hadn't realized she'd been staring at his lips until right then. "What about it?"

"Well, you asked me three years ago if I'd be your zucchini," he said slowly.

Oh, she remembered that. Vividly. She'd been a wreck while writing that letter to him, and more nervous the entire time she'd waited for his response. But she'd jumped the gun at the time, and hadn't brought it up since.

"I think I'd like that," he said. "But… I can't justify calling you my  _zucchini_. It's weird."

She nodded. That made sense. Even she thought calling a partner in a relationship a  _zucchini_  was a little on the odd side.

"So, can I maybe…" Her eyes widened further when she saw a light flush crossing his cheeks and his gaze darted to the ground and back to her face. "Can I say you're my super squish, instead? It's uh… much cuter than zucchini."

She nodded again. She was definitely making a complete fool of herself, she's sure of it. But could he blame her? She was blindsided by this, and he was right there, and out of prison, and good fucking lord, she hadn't expected him to be so tall! Or so pretty. He was absolutely gorgeous in person. It had been a while since she'd had this sudden zing rippling down her spine.

She could just see him lying her out in her bed and his thin, lanky body molding to hers. She might not have wanted romance with him or anyone, but that didn't mean she couldn't fantasize about the mindblowing orgasms he would give her. Well, if that was something he was actually interested in. But a bitch could dream!

"Then, if you're my super squish," he said softly, fighting the urge to take a small step closer to her. "Would it be alright if I hug you, Lucy?"

She squeaked and nodded again, honing in on the sound of his soft laugh. This was exactly what she'd hoped they could do when they met. And as his arms wrapped around her shoulders, it wasn't even a conscious thought to hug him right back. Her head turned and she listened to his quicker than normal heartbeat. But she heard it, and just knowing that he really was as nervous as she was, actually set her at ease. She melted against him, right into the warm embrace she'd dreamt about for years.

"You're the perfect height for hugs," she whispered, smiling as her eyes closed.

His chin gently touched the top of her head and he smiled as well. "You, too," he sighed. "I never thought I'd enjoy hugging someone like this."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Of course," he said.

Her head lowered just a little, and she squeezed him just a little tighter. "You're sexy."

He couldn't stop himself from laughing about that. "Whatever you say, Lucy."

He knew she wasn't asexual like himself, just like she knew that he wasn't not aromantic like her. They'd joked before about being soulmates - he had the romance and she had the sex - and had even, at one point the year before, made up a hypothetical situation where they became a normal couple. How it would work.

What it had boiled down to, was Macbeth pretending she wasn't aromantic and building the perfect relationship based on his needs. Then Lucy pretending he wasn't asexual and building one based on her needs. They had a lot of common ground, but viewed it differently. Where he saw something as romantic, she didn't. As long as their hypothetical selves remembered to talk things out, then there wouldn't be any problems with boundaries.

He'd been honest with her at the time though, when they'd had that conversation, and had said if that was something they ended up doing in the future, he was willing to compromise. But for the time being, they were somewhere between just friends and dating. And he rather preferred this to anything else, because it was Lucy. He liked this, having her as his super squish. Knowing that he didn't have to worry about a thing where Lucy was concerned, because she understood him so much better than anyone else ever had before.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked softly, nestling his nose in her hair. God, she smelled like heaven.

"Of course." She pulled back just enough to look up at him with their arms still around each other.

With a small smile, he whispered, "You're the best friend I've ever had, too." She blushed and hugged him tighter than before just when Yukino walked out of the building. And instead of trying to pull away from her so they could leave this prison behind for good, Macbeth just kept hugging her.

_**.The End.** _


End file.
